


Good Morning Dearest

by jaeminim



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male Character, mild though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23164681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaeminim/pseuds/jaeminim
Summary: [ for ryan ] - a little snippet of the daily lives of woosang as busy architecture and psychology majors.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	Good Morning Dearest

**Author's Note:**

> well it's currently five am & this was. mostly self indulgent writing for @coffeefoxes on twt ( ryan is that even your twt im sorry if it's not )
> 
> this is in no way shape or form proof read for grammar. except for. grammarly so like, YEET also this is very. idealistic dont mind me projecting my desire for an unproblematic perfect life

_“Can you tell your goddamn cat to stop distracting me? She’s too cute, I can’t say no to her!”_ Wooyoung’s so-called complaint had ended with a whine as he put down his pen to instead busy himself with the fluffy Turkish Angora lying on top of his blueprints, taking up most of his working space. All the while, the owner of the perpetrator did not seem to care about Wooyoung’s battle with his self-control, only letting out a noncommital hum without lifting his head from the draft he was typing up, much to the chagrin of his boyfriend.

 _“Well, you do spoil her,”_ A while passed with the consistent click of keys and cooing noises until the clicking suddenly stopped and Yeosang spoke for what seemed like the first time that evening. But the interruption was short-lived as the clicking of keys picked up and Yeosang was once more absorbed by the work in front of him. Wooyoung clicked his tongue at his boyfriend’s antics, returning back to his work half-heartedly as Van moved to her usual spot, the corner of Wooyoung’s desk, curling against his pencil case the contents of which were spread across his desk as he drew, erased and redrew line after line for his final project.

For them, this was a common occurrence, Yeosang sitting on the couch, reading case studies for his course and working on his thesis while Wooyoung would hunch over his desk, calculating and drawing angles and walls, both working tirelessly over their respective majors, accompanied by the scratch of pencils on paper, the clicking of keys, and sometimes the antics of their pets. Their working room used to be Wooyoung’s old room, back when they were simply roommates, old childhood friends living together to make ends meet a bit better and have a reminder of home. While Wooyoung’s desk and cupboard had stayed, with the cupboard repurposed to house their books rather than Wooyoung’s clothes, his bed was removed and his knickknacks were moved into Yeosang’s room, taking over Yeosang’s desk. With the lack of space to properly work in his room, they bought a couch and two side tables to accommodate for him, and the room became the prime hub of productivity in their shared apartment.

However productive the room may be, it was almost always a mess, taking only a single night of studying to bring the room back into its perpetual state of chaos, with books strewn across all viable surfaces, blueprints and dimension notes stuck onto the walls, pencil shavings and eraser dusting covering the floor, the singular rug they have in the room bent at the corner, the cluster of succulents on the windowsill looking at them with disapproval at their mess, but such was the workplace of an architect.

 _“Hey, it’s almost two in the morning,”_ With no clock in the room as per Wooyoung’s request, and the sky being dark since they first sat down to work, it was nearly impossible for them to know how long they had been working, save for the tiny clock on the edge of Yeosang’s monitor indicating the time they have lost. If it was up to Wooyoung, he would continue refining his blueprint for his model, but when Yeosang closed his laptop he knew it was time to finish up as well, as his boyfriend would not let him be, continuously nagging him to finish what he was doing and go to bed.

While picking up the drawing instruments strewn all over his desk and shoving them back in his pencil case, he spared a glance at Yeosang who had rolled up his sleeves and carefully pulled Van into his arms, making sure not to jostle the cat awake while trying to take him to his bed. Yeosang silently leaves the room and Wooyoung is left alone to clear his mess.

Once he deems his desk clean enough, he leaves the room, turning off the lights for the night and making his way into his shared room with his boyfriend, who seems to have already finished getting ready for bed. Choosing to be a little shit, Wooyoung falls on top of his boyfriend, effectively smushing him into the bed. Though from years of dealing with him, Yeosang isn’t startled and actually catches him before they accidentally knock their faces into each other, palms flat against his boyfriend’s chest. He gives Wooyoung an eye-roll with no heat behind the gesture before he frowns, his eyebrows knitting together.

 _“Woo? how long have you been wearing this?”_ The atmosphere changes and Wooyoung looks down with traces of guilt written across his features, causing Yeosang’s to immediately soften, placing a palm on Wooyoung’s face, effectively cupping his cheek, _“Come on love, we’ll get you into some fresh clothes and then you can tell me what’s going on.”_

Yeosang pokes his side, an encouraging smile on his face as Wooyoung climbs off of his boyfriend and waddles to his side of the bed, grabbing his pyjamas from under his pillow. He makes no motion for Yeosang to follow him into the bathroom despite usually being comfortable enough with his boyfriend, and is thankful when Yeosang doesn’t seem to move from his spot on the bed. Though there’s still the telltale heaviness in his chest due to making him worry, the dysphoria weighs heavier as he gets ready for bed as quickly as he can, eager to not look at himself in the mirror more than necessary.

When he’s back in their room and cuddled up to Yeosang, whose back is flat against the headboard, he relaxes. Yeosang’s running his hands through his hair, mentioning how they can go get his hair cut in the morning if it would make him feel better ( _“Though I do love your hair when it’s nice and long because I can run my hands through it properly, your comfort comes first,”_ ) and Wooyoung’s heart melts. That night he falls asleep to Yeosang playing with his hair and despite the lingering feelings of gender dysphoria, he sleeps somewhat well.

The morning comes way too quickly is his first thought as he is prodded awake by his boyfriend. In a futile effort to fall back asleep, he pushes his boyfriend away, curling in on himself but to no avail. Yeosang pulls him against his chest and after pressing a kiss onto his forehead pushes Wooyoung off the bed and onto the cold floor. His back meets the tiles and he is jolted awake with Yeosang’s laughter ringing in his ears. He’s quick to wake as he mutters _fucker_ under his breath, jumping back on the bed to attack Yeosang with tickles. He’s only mildly successful, getting a few laughs from him before Yeosang grabs his hands, effectively stopping all attempts at tickling, and leaves the smallest ghost of a kiss on Wooyoung’s lips before getting out of bed, leaving the younger floundering like a fish out of water.

By the time he manages to collect himself, take a shower, change into something decent enough for the off chance of a spontaneous visit to the supermarket and stumble into the kitchen with quite a lot of noise, the smell of french toast is all-encompassing, with Yeosang at the stove who turns his head to the side to acknowledge his presence. A well-deduced guess tells him that breakfast for Van and Gaeul had already been prepared if the scrambled eggs in their bowls were any indication. Still clumsy from waking up, Wooyoung drags himself over to where Yeosang’s standing over the stove and wraps his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to Yeosang’s cheek before squeezing him affectionately.

 _“And a good morning to you,”_ his voice is as gentle as ever, as lulling as ever, and if he was not used to the deeper pre-noon Yeosang voice he sure that he would’ve fallen asleep, _“Why don’t you go make us some coffee while I finish these?”_ With a kiss to his lips, Wooyoung slides over to the other side of the kitchen to spoon some coffee grounds into the fresh filter that Yeosang had the ingenious idea of replacing before they went to bed. After checking that there was enough water in the machine, he turned it on and went ahead to set the table for their modest breakfast for two. 

Out of habit, he keeps peering over his shoulder, carefully watching Yeosang for a few seconds before continuing to set the table in the odd order that he picked up from his boyfriend: sides and spreadables, cutlery, water glasses, a jug of water, coffee mugs, the coffee pot, and finally the plates which have been filled by Yeosang.

They eat mostly in silence, only speaking to discuss Wooyoung’s ideas for his project in between bites. Where Wooyoung is analytical and thoughtful, Yeosang is imaginative and intuitive, offering Wooyoung valuable insight into how he might improve his model. When the conversation turns to the events of the night before, the atmosphere becomes slightly weird. It’s nothing at first, with Yeosang mentioning how it’s been a while since he’s seen him with short hair, but later on, morphs into Yeosang asking him roundabout questions regarding his fellow architecture majors, trying to get a grip of the situation. Wooyoung, of course, tries to answer to the best of his abilities, but soon finds himself unable to answer simple questions regarding the lives of his friends, exposing his bad friendship skills, at which point Yeosang drops the questioning altogether, opting to clap his hands with a determined smile on his face.

 _“Well, we know the plan for today then! We’re getting you a hair cut lover boy, and out of this house for some socialisation and the remedy of the soul, gossip.”_ Wooyoung only giggles at that, though he would not admit it, he is grateful for his boyfriend’s eccentric ways of fixing sour moods. The rest of breakfast goes by smoothly as Yeosang fills the silence with retellings of weird things he’s read in one of his many assigned readings with very pointed reactions to certain studies, most notably exasperation and annoyance by ending all of his sentences regarding anything Freudian with a wide array of cherry-picked expletives.

The jovial air carries on well after breakfast, as they clean up after themselves, with Wooyoung washing the dishes and sometimes splashing Yeosang who was tasked with drying the dishes before putting them back in their respective cupboards. After a light match of a one-sided water fight, Yeosang pushes Wooyoung towards their room, demanding him to change into something more appropriate for the chilly spring weather outside and bring him another jumper, earning a good-natured quip from the younger.

When Wooyoung finally decides on an outfit to change into and makes his way into the living room he’s greeted with the sight of Yeosang playing with Gaeul, laughing whenever the puppy lets out an excited bark. It doesn’t take him long to notice Wooyoung standing at the end of the corridor, his phone out and recording Yeosang rolling on the floor, trying to keep up with a hyperactive puppy. Van, all the while unhappy that he had been woken up from his nap, attempted to get his revenge by biting his toes, causing both adults to burst into laughter while Yeosang tried to calm down the frustrated kitten by cooing at him, miserably failing.

It took a while for them to finally calm down Van and Gaeul enough to get a few moments to themselves. Yeosang’s face was red from laughing and Wooyoung couldn’t help but tease him about it, leaning over to press a kiss on his cheek, pulling back as if he had been burned and exclaiming _“You’re fucking burning!”_ To which he receives a reply of a shove, followed by a huff of indignation.

( If it took them a while to get out of the house due not being able to stop snogging each other, that’s a secret he’ll never tell. )


End file.
